The day I got lost...

The day I got lost...

Annie's Visit:

My outdoor bed/ entertaining area
(minus the roofing and my hammock)

Out of the blue, the winds blew rezo (cell phone service) my way and my little Nokia phone, got a buzz. I received a text from my fellow Ohioan and Miami alumni volunteer, Annie Cleary. Annie is a godsend. I am so lucky to have her in my region and as a friend. She was at the regional house and decided she wanted to "invite herself" to my site. My hut is an open invitation, I love hosting guests and I hardly ever have them. I have literally tailored my outdoor living space for entertaining guests, with my targeted audience as Americans not my village. I got so excited that I ran to a mango tree that normally has a little rezo to call and tell her that nothing would make me happier than for her to come to my site and then the next day we could both bike back to Kolda together. 

Annie has never been to my site, but it is a pretty easy to find. I told her I would meet her at the "main" road before my legitimate bush road starts about an hour after she said she was going to take her departure. I was doing some last minute cleaning in preparation for her arrival, including washing my sheets with my newly splurge Dakar purchase of fabric softener. I was nervous that I was leaving later than I told her I would meet her, and what would be expected for her to reach that area of the route in her departure time. It wouldn't have been a huge deal, except I didn't even tell her the name of he village to turn off on, I just told her to bike until she saw me. Eekk. I biked my heart out to reach the road, talked to people that passed by asking them if they saw a woman toubab riding a bike, everyone said they hadn't... Yet. Then, I saw the village chief of the village over hanging out in what can only be described as a tree stand. I asked him if he saw Annie (the toubab) and he said he's been looking out for her, like a hunter waiting for the deer to approach, creepy. Then, he told me that my counterpart informed him of her upcoming arrival and that she didn't know the road, so to not let her get lost. Thank Allah Hoyo knows how I work and put backup plans into action (without even telling me). I stood under his tree stand and waited for the white girl to appear around the corner. Once I saw Annie, I was thrilled I didn't screw her over by my tardiness.

We got to my village and took our bucket baths, listened to some music and planned our afternoon. We decided to do something girly and put some lemon juice (another splurge from a previous visit to Dakar) in our hair and put the African sun to use for once and try to get some highlights out of the ordeal. After the commencement of our proclaimed slumber party, with our highlight aspirations, we had lunch, and departed to a few villages over to check in with my ICP (the doctor) at the health post to see how the PECADOM+ program was going, make sure there was medicine for the sweeps and the malaria season, and to go check out this river my sitemate, Jenny, told me about, that was supposed to have all sorts of exotic birds native to Senegal. We started out our adventure biking bush paths through fields and forests that were only a bike tire wide and overgrown with tall weeds that when pedaling past you get slapped in the face. The paths are so climate controlled that the erosion drops down the sand and clay and you shouldn't look up for more than a few seconds because if you don't watch the path change you're bound to wipe out. When telling Annie the plan to go to Santancoye, I left out the detail in order to get to the village we would have to cross a seasonal river that was mid-thigh deep.

Annie crossing the river like a champ!

Annie was a trouper when we crossed it and through the whole bush path ordeal. We were actually on a wild goose chase when it came to the river because everyone we asked said that there was no such river. Once we arrived to the health post, asked our questions and was told that there wasn't medicine, per usual of Senegal's unorganized government and cultural operations. Bummer. We asked again about the river, resolved to have our relaxing few hours sitting under a tree eating our Klaus cookies, we once again told this river didn’t exist.

Our river view

So, we went to this area where I remember seeing a bridge during one of my exploration voyages to neighboring villages. We arrived to the river, which in everyone's defense is a seasonal river, laid our blanket down, sat under this hundred year old tree, with our cooling towels over our necks, fans in one hand, cookies in the other, we watched a lady harvesting rice, a few birds, and a suspicious branch floating and moving in the current, we were praying it wasn't a crocodile. A man in my neighboring village was killed by a crocodile and apparently the villagers killed the croc and ate its meat for protection against it.. Or, I like to think it is their way of sweet revenge. We watched the sky turn different colors as the sun was starting to set. We thought it was best to start back to my village while we still had plenty of light. It was a nice relaxing afternoon, and we were ready to get back, shower and eat dinner. Well, there are three paths that one can take to get to my village from where we were.

Our tree =) It is probably at least one year old

 I haven't been down the path from my village because everyone has said it is too bad to take this time of year, each path everyone tells their stories about how deep and to what body part the water is up to. To be frank, I've only taken the path(s) back to my village before the rains started and without all the weeds. I didn't know the exact path to take, but I didn't think it would be that hard to find.. I mean, how many could there be? Well, the answer is... A lot. I couldn't recognize the path, we went up and down numerous paths, all which we swore we didn't recognize because of some distinct feature we assumed we would have noticed coming in. For instance, one path had a lot of thorns that when we past the thorns and came out with bloody bodies pick out 7+ thorns from our arms, one was because the path was wider than a tire, one was because a pretty tree canopy, another was a large termite hill. It was getting late, and the sun was almost set. I decided that I knew how to get home the long way, not through the thick bush trails by going through Sare Samba. I remember stories of the river penetrating the road, but never saw it first hand, I figure it would be similar to the path that I take from Sare Guiro. I was wrong. We reached the water and it was sooooo wide and it looked deep. I didn't know what to do, I could only laugh. How did I not know how to get us home?! I asked Annie what she wanted to do, I told her that it could be at the most as deep as out necks, thinking that we could make it, not realizing how ridiculous that sounded with our bikes over our head walking almost 100 feet. We would have drowned. Plus, we psyched ourselves out about crocodiles from the previous adventure, that we were nervous what we would find in the water. Annie said, "let's do this path by last resort" but I was already thinking it was our last resort because by the time we MAYBE find the RIGHT path, it would be dark and extremely hard to navigate the trail without killing ourselves or getting pretty banged up in the process. Reluctantly, we turned around, went down a few of the trails we previously explored and were still lost. Luckily I know a family in a village in between the path and Santancoye, one of the compounds there is my younger brother, whose hut I took over with my arrival, forcing him to move in with this extended family. Annie and I previously greeted them, so going back asking desperately and almost pathetically to help us find the path, they just laughed, and my brother biked us to the path. I told Annie, if I saw that dang termite mound again (we already tried this path twice before) I was going to die. Well, we passed that mound, at least I think we did because it was pretty dark. I just can't believe we didn't notice these prominent "landmarks" despite our eyes being locked on the ground. I have horrible night vision and surprisingly Annie and managed to maneuver through the windy, uneven, sand paths filed with tall weeds, across the river, and up the steep hills to the neighboring village leading to my village. I only fell twice (the first time I fell was last week on my way to another village for the bed net care and repair tourney on the same road, the sand is impossible to bike through without tumbling over.)

One of the small paths we thought could be the correct path
Notice how high the weeds are and how narrow the trial is...

We got back, my family upset because they assumed I got us lost and they went looking for us and couldn’t find us. I told them about our attempts to find our way back and contemplating crossing the huge, deep river. They laughed. We took another, much needed bucket bath and passed out for the night. 

We woke up to leave for Kolda in the morning, realized that Annie’s bike had a flat tire and we had to repair the tube, being yet again, another toubab spectacle. It was an adventure that I couldn’t imagine doing with anyone else.

#Ohioansarethebest

#thirdworldproblems

#crocodilesintherivers

#Danhateshashtags

The day(s) I saved lives…

The day(s) I saved lives…

Malaria Awareness: Mosquito Bed Net Care and Repair Tourney

First off, I want to rant off some startling facts about Malaria:

3.2 Billion People, almost half of the world’s population are at risk of malaria, and 1.2 billion are at high risk. 

Globally, in 2013, there were:

-198 million cases of Malaria

-90% of all malaria deaths occurred in sub-Saharan Africa

-78% of the aforementioned deaths occurred in children under five years of age

-97 countries have on-going malaria transmission

-80% of the estimated malaria deaths occur in 18 of most affected Countries

Between 2001-2013, an estimated 4.2 million lives were saved as a result of a scale-up of malaria interventions. 97%, 4.1 million, of these lives saved are in the under-five age group in sub-saharan Africa.

Let’s relate those numbers and bring it home..

Nearly 750,000 deaths per year (90% in Africa), which is more than the population of Wyoming, Vermont, North Dakota or Alaska. 

Does anyone remember what a big fuss Ebola was/is? Do you remember how worked up everyone got about the deaths and the transmissions? Do you remember how once it started spreading, to the motherland (heaven forbid that a disease that is wiping out people in Africa come to the United States), people started funding and developing treatments and vaccinations? Well, I would love to put Malaria in perspective with Ebola for you all to grasp the gravity of Malaria…

In 2014, there were 4,877 deaths from Ebola, and Malaria kills an estimated 1.2 MILLION people a year. Heh. A little discrepant in our reaction for the Ebola outbreak and lackthereof for Malaria? I think yes. 

Senegal’s Population: 13.7 Million

Percent at Risk for Malaria: 100%

Estimated Malaria Cases: 3.8 Million

Health Education Reached in 2011: 6.8 Million 

Estimated Bed Net Usage in 2009: 27%

Estimated Bed Net Usage in 2011: 61%

People Visiting Clinic at First Symptoms in 2009: 30%

People Visiting Clinic at First Symptoms in 2011: 63% 

The above statics are from various sources including nomoremalaria.org, WHO, UNICEF, and the CDC. Sorry for the poorly sited statistics, but this was just meant to inform you all of the crisis, not as an official report. 

Below is a link discussing Malaria facts from WHO:

http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs094/en/

Please visit the site below to see the WHO’s statistics covering Senegal’s Malaria situation to better understand the gravity of behavior change and educational outreach for eliminated malaria. 

http://www.who.int/malaria/publications/country-profiles/profile_sen_en.pdf?ua=1

Other interesting health statistics by UNICEF can be found at the link below:

http://www.unicef.org/infobycountry/senegal_statistics.html

In 2011, Peace Corps Senegal joined together with all of the other

Peace Corps Africa countries to finally “Stomp Out Malaria” in Africa.

Currently it is the number one cause of death in Senegal, and much of

the entire population lives in high-transmission zones. There are over

3,000 volunteers across the continent who, like me, are working to bring malaria deaths in Senegal to zero by 2020. You can check out some of the cool projects being done at http://stompoutmalaria.org/ . Even though World Malaria Day is April 25th, the rainy season in Senegal is from July-October (ish) and Malaria season is at the peak June-December (ish). The southern regions, like my region, Kolda, are at the highest risk for Malaria. Volunteers take malaria prophylactics and sleep under bed nets to mitigate the risk of malaria. But, prophylactics are not feasible for the African population because not only of the cost and the long term side effects but also the mosquitos that would carry the parasite responsible would become resistant and immune to the medications, creating a superbug, making it that much, much harder for malaria to be treated and eliminated. (Think the penicillin and other antibiotics issue we face in the States and in other developed countries that over prescribe antibiotics.. pretty scary stuff.) 

Nate, Vanessa and Hoyo in Sare Guiro. Nate 
showing off his fancy beautification hole patch. 

Africans, and I am speaking from my Senegalese standards, are encouraged to sleep under bed nets because the mosquitos that carry the malaria parasite, Anopheles, are out and about during the hours of dusk to dawn, thus the transmission is the highest during these times; ergo the importance of sleeping under a bed net. A Presidential Campaign went into effect a few years ago, where the health posts go out and do a monthly vaccination for the children five and under during the rainy season to help prevent the child mortality rate, and women who are pregnant get a similar medication during their pre-natal visits. Free. These two groups are given preventive medication because they are the highest risk for malaria. 

Although there are numerous campaigns encouraging and educating the people about malaria and bed nets as a preventive method, it is a behavior change that is hard to make a paradigm switch. I will be the first to admit, those nets are HOTTTT when you are sleeping under them and when it is already miserably hot (I have yet to experience a day that wasn’t…) without the extra bed net heat, convincing people to have sleepless nights enduring the heat is extremely hard. If I wasn’t so concerned about the creepy crawly things that come out at night crawling on me, I think I would almost be willing to sleep without a bed net, too, because how hot it is. And, that isn’t good. If only there were a way to make the nets impregnated with the insecticide, impenetrable by mosquitos, and lightweight and airy #bigdreams But, that fabric has yet been discovered to manufacture bed nets. (to my knowledge..)

Let’s talk about the Kolda Bed Net Care and Repair Tourney I participated in! 

During one of the causeries educating people about the importance of bed net care and repair, malaria transmission, symptoms and treatment and social responsibilities in the fight against malaria. 

A few years ago, there was a universal bed net dispersement and little by little every region and every village should have received free bed nets to fight against malaria. Since then, Peace Corps Volunteers do Bed Net Care and Repair Bike Tourneys within their Regions to reach out to villages, wash the nets, sew up any holes and make any desired changes that would encourage the behavior change for sleeping under the nets.  The tourney is still going on, but last week my work zone did my three villages, and a few other villages in my in my work zone. Now, we are just missing Abigail’s and Brandon’s to finish up our work zone tourney. It was a great experience, not only because it was the first time that I had guests out to my site and got to experience special treatment and “good” food at my site, but working beside volunteers that have been here long and have better language skills and have acquired more vocabulary not only inspired me to work harder, but I learned at lot along the way. 

After the last day of the tourney, leaving the site we
had to bike in a downpour around 10k through
bush trials resulting in a very messy bike and
wardrobe that may never be rid of the sand.

I went to four villages during the tourney, and I plan to do more when Brandon gets back to Senegal and when Abigail's start. It is hard work though! My back still hurts from leaning over sewing up countless holes in nets, transforming rectangle nets to circle nets, adding fabric to make it more eye-appealing or to patch up big holes. We had to encourage the people that owned their nets to do the work themselves and we would just help speed up the process. If we just showed up and did all the work, they wouldn’t be taking ownership of their health, and who knows when the next time a toubab will show up to do something similar. They shouldn’t wait for a toubab to come to take care of their nets and thus their health, they need to learn to take initiative. So, not only did we bring materials to wash, sew, and beautify the nets, we also had causeries telling them exactly how they should care for their net AND why they need to take action. Most people who have nets, were not necessarily informed on the proper techniques of bed net care. For instance, because the bed nets are impregnanted with a long lasting insecticide, they can’t use detergent, they have to use ordinary soap, and they have to be dried in the shade, out of the sun. They shouldn’t be washed more than two times a year, but if there is a lot of dirt on the nets, they dirt prevents the insecticide from being as effective and thus not killing the mosquitos that land on it, which if it is clean, helps prevent transmission. Another thing that is extremely important we talked about is illustrating that is isn’t one person’s responsibility for their health, it is a whole community’s responsibility. If one person allows a mosquito to bite him/her and transmit the parasite into his/her bloodstream, then that blood is infected, and when another mosquito comes along and bites that person, that mosquito becomes infected and then bites another person, infecting the other person.. it is a tragically devastating ripple effect. So, if someone knows that someone in the community isn’t sleeping under a bed net, doesn’t own a bed net, or doesn’t take proper care of the bed net, they have to call that person(s) out on their behavior. That person isn’t only putting his/her own health into jeopardy, but the entire communities. 

My bike after the last day, minus a lot of the wet sand. 

A lot of Peace Corps is getting the community to take ownership, whether it be their finances, education, health, development projects, etc., and this is a great example of how we are here to help them  take ownership of their health by chastising those who are endangering their own health, and thus the health of the community. 

One of the most important, in the moment, parts of the tourney is having an ASC at each event. An ASC is a health worker that is allowed to test for malaria and give out medication if they test positive. During the tourney we have numerous people who tested positive and got their medication, essentially saving their lives. 

All in the day’s work of a Peace Corps Volunteer.

#credibility 

The day I slept in a sept-place, AKA- slept-place...

The day I slept in a sept-place, AKA- slept-place (that pun is thanks to the lovely Annie Cleary)...

Travel Nightmares living so far from Dakar. 

I woke up thinking I should just stay another night and enjoy Oktoberfest with my friends in Dakar. In fact, I went back to bed for another half hour. I woke up again and decided that I couldn't afford another day in Dakar (I went through my entire monthly allowance for October and it was only October 3rd. Dakar is expensive and I stayed in the city for over a week. I had 6,000 CFA (12$) to spare for the whole month IF things worked out how I planned. And, by the way, that 12$ is allllll change I gathered and was resorted to. It's going to be a very tight month) and I started preparing my belongings for my departure. Usually, it is wise to leave by the latest 3:30am, but since I went back to bed, I was leaving at 4am. I had to buy cat food to (inshallah) last until January when I come back from my vacation from The States, so I had an extra heavy bag I had to carry on my head to the main road to find a taxi to take me to the garage. I reached the garage with a almost native familiarity now and asked a man standing next to a sept-place which sept-place was leaving for Kolda, he pointed to the one I stopped at, the second one to the end (which I already assumed) and said I just got the last seat! Awesomely Horrible. I didn't have to wait for the next sept-place, but I got the worst seat in the car. The guy was trying to overcharge me for my extra bag, and I was getting mad, calling him a bandit and saying he was trying to steal from me because I was white. We met somewhere in the middle in the price dispute, lowering my already tight money situation. Even though I bought the last seat, we were waiting on a person to arrive that showed up super early, but went somewhere to get something else. We didn't leave until 5:30am. Not off to a good start, but I didn't think it would be the end of the world. I had reservations pretty much every step leading up to our departure. We tried several gas stations in Dakar but none were open or they were too busy. I never reallllly believed in omens, but sometimes you can't miss the signs of trepidation. We eventually got gas, and I was trying to avoid being touched by this man that is coming back to Kolda to live a few villages over from mine. He told me he wants an American wife and I found him reaching over and casually touching me by draping his arm behind the seat. I think his older brother was on to him because at one point when we all got out of the car, the man tried to switch seats with his brother who was sitting in between us, and even though his brother had the worse seat, he wouldn't let it happen. I was very grateful for him in that moment. We ended up stopping in Kaolack, a not-so-nice-little over-half-way mark to get breakfast. I wasn't happy about the stop because we were already running behind and we could just wait a few hours and eat while we waited at The Gambia River to cross. But who listens to the toubab? No one. I bought 1,000 CFA (2$) of food, some yogurt and some bread, hoping to tide me over until we reached Kolda where I have some food at the regional house to eat for dinner. Shortly after our breakfast stop our car started to overheat and break down. We were going every 100m stopping and going, stopping and going, stopping and going. We ran out of water to refill the radiator, and I only had a little water left in my bottle and didn't want to give it up. I can't just drink any water like everyone else in the car. I almost thought about getting a ride back to the Kaolack regional house and just try to depart in the morning, but I realized I didn't have the funds to buy another seat the next day, so I endured the stops. We finally reached The Gambia a little after 11am, honestly really good timing for stopping so much. I wasn't overly concerned until I saw how far back we had to stop in the line. The line to cross was the longest I have ever seen it. Everyone got out except the man that was trying to feel me up, his brother, the driver and me. I moved to the front passenger seat and started a new book. It wasn't until my stomach started to growl from hunger did I realize I might be in a situation because we hardly advanced in the line and it was now 5pm. I skipped lunch hoping to still make it to Kolda for my next meal, but I couldn't wait any longer and my water was depleted. I spent 1,400 CFA (3$) on an omelette sandwich and a bottle of water. My 6,000 CFA, was diminishing and my positive attitude about getting home started to fade.  I called my friend Annie to talk about my unfortunate situation and run over some figures with her to see if I could afford another sept-place ticket if I crossed The Gambia and abandoned my sept-place and got on another one after the line. We decided I didn't have enough money and it was too risky to cross without knowing for sure. I finished my book as it started to get dark, and remembered that there is a road block put in place every night after dark until 6:30am that we would be affected by. At this point, we advanced a substantial amount in the line and almost thought we were going to make it across the river before the ferry closed for the night. I decided that I needed to call Mbouille, Peace Corps' Safety and Security main man, because this type of travel is forbidden by Peace Corps.  Even though I let them know my travel whereabouts at 5am, so they knew I did not anticipate this situation, I knew it wasn't a good thing to be in my predicament. Especially alone. I ended up using my entire Month's phone credit allowance in just a few hours calling Annie, my mom called me, and then several communications with Mbouille because of the roaming charges in Gambia. Great. Now I don't have any money for the month and I don't have any phone credit for the month either. October isn't looking so good. I quickly realized that I wasn't crossing the river and the road block shouldn't even be a concern because the ferry wouldn't reopen until 8am. It started to thunder, lightening, and downpour. Everyone hurried to get into the car, but I was still in the passenger seat, occupying another man's seat. They all hopped in the car and told me we can all switch back after the rain. Well, at that point I just got off the phone with Mbouille (Safety and Security) with the realization that I would be spending the night in the "slept-place." With the previous unsolicited attention in my original seat, I wasn't comfortable sleeping back there, so I managed to charm the man to sleep in the front. He is actually very interesting. Before I turned on my charm, I didn't know how to communicate with him because I only heard him speak in Wolof, but, then, I heard some sing-song language that perked my interested. After listening for a minute I realized it was Italian, and it was the guy whose seat I was occupying!! I was incredibly intrigued and impressed with my initial assessment of him; he had dreadlocks that were so perfectly clean looking that I knew that he didn't live here. But, he spoke Wolof, so he had to, right? Well, it turns out he was born here, moved to Italy as a young child and started working as a mechanic and now works as an engineer for Fiat. Usually, I am too embarrassed to use my French to try to have conversations, but I was too intrigued with him, and my curiosity got the best of me, so had I had to indulge. I have come to realize that I can't do language switches seamlessly, not even with English and Pulaar. I haven't really spoken French since 2008, so I was pretty rusty speaking, but I understood (almost) everything. After a few hours of talking my French improved significantly, and once midnight approached, I had four allies in the car and I felt safe sleeping in a place that I previously was terrified of. Well, not the exact place because I slept up front, but I was terrified of sleeping in a sept-place open and vulnerable. One of the people that the guy was traveling with lives in Dakar and was even practicing his English with me. Surprisingly, I could translate his French quickly enough to English for it to be somewhat effective. 

After spending the night tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, which literally no sleep, I took out my ear plugs at 6am and started a new book. When I got out of the car, to my surprise, we still had a long way to go before our turn on the ferry approached. I thought it could be very possible that I would see Annie at The Gambia before crossing since was scheduled to depart the morning after I did. I tried to call her but with no credit in The Gambia, I couldn't get through. After a record breaking 23.5 hours wait, my sept-place and my 6 new friends (we lost one person who decided to take a different sept-place to save time) crossed the Gambian River, and made our way to Kolda, exchanging contact information and sending friend requests on Facebook. 

Annie called and she crossed The Gambia a few hours after I did. I should have just waited the extra day and went back with her. After I got to the regional house I took a much needed shower, made some lunch, watched a movie and then took a nap that turned into 16 hours of sleep. Now, I am going to the post office this morning and relax a little until I bike back to my village in the morning. I plan on taking advantage of this absence-of-money-poor-situation and plan on spending the next 3 weeks at site. 

And if you're wondering what the tally is for how I just made it by money wise, I have 2,100 CFA left for the the rest of the month. And, it is only the 5th. 

I am growing so much over here. 

And I'm not just talking about my stomach from all the rice. 

You can make decisions, but some decisions make you. And with Peace Corps it is a never ending cycle of making decisions that end up making me more of who I am. 

Oh, since I said in my last post that my next post would be about Tabaski, I should at least mention it. 

Tabaski is the biggest holiday of the Muslim religion, we celebrate it for 3 days, but I had to go to Dakar unexpectedly and left the evening of the first night. Everyone liked the candy I bought to give out since I refuse to give money out, it was a nice compromise, even if the elders weren't amused and would have preferred money. Sometimes you just have to show them you aren't there to give them money nor are Americans an endless supply of money. 

Everyone loved my new komplet and my hair. They said that I was a true Senegalese now. 

Typically cutting a ram's throat is supposed to be a big part of this holiday, but once again, we didn't have money and thus didn't have a goat, ergo we lacked any meat in our dinner bowl. Nonetheless, we still enjoyed the holiday. However, when I biked into Kolda that evening to prepare for my early departure to Dakar, I stopped at my adopted family's house to greet them, and they fed me their gloriously veggie and meat filled bowl and side dishes of bread, butter and beans! Wow, It was good! I wish my phone was charged that day so I could have taken pictures, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. I'll be sure to take pictures next year.